


Apparently I’m deceased

by EmmaSpencer



Series: Mystrade prompts [14]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: All is well in the end, Brotherly feels, Case, Confusion, Everything is the Same, Exhausted Greg, Facebook prompt-watch, Greg and Mycroft on a case, Greg just had enough, I'm having a mental breakdown, M/M, Mycroft Being Mycroft, Or not, So much confusion, another body, bit fluff and cuddling, dream - Freeform, is it just a game, once dead and then not, so what is going on now, tags will be added later, unsettling findings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2019-11-27 05:41:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18190502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaSpencer/pseuds/EmmaSpencer
Summary: Mycroft is helping out Greg with a rather gruesome case, when they find a body in a shed belonging to the older Holmes.But nothing as it seems.One minute Mycroft is dead and the second he is hovering over Greg with a worrying look, alive.Greg starts to question his sanity and after a talk with a stranger he even questions the intentions of his lover.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is all I have for now.  
> Currently no idea how to continue, so I don't promise an update soon. But who knows.

“So…this is it then.”  
“Yes.” he whispered shakily.  
“I go in, you stay out.”  
“Deal.” Greg took out the gun and stepped to the shed. He stepped back immediately, the smell and sight overwhelming. “Jeee.” he gasped for air.  
“Anything you can see Gregory? Anything to link his murder to…”  
“The same manner...” he covered his mouth stepping back in. “Then the previous victim…wounds at the same places.” he tried to stay as far as it was possible. “Mycroft…” he stepped out.  
“Yes?”  
“The…watch.” Mycroft took out his pocket watch.  
“Yes?”  
“The same…the…suit too. Scarf, tie, colour, pattern…everything matches.” he peaked in, blinking rapidly.  
“Oh…this is rather ghastly…no open casket funeral.”  
“Mycroft.” Greg whispered shakily.  
“Hmmm?” he turned looking at Greg.  
“Hand.” he pointed at his hand. Mycroft looked down and see through himself.  
“Oh…” he looked at the body again. “Apparently I’m deceased.” Greg whined stepping away from him. “It is…a strange turn of events.” he mused.   
“Strange!” Greg yelled. “I’m losing my mind.” he whispered. “I’m losing my mind.” he stumbled out of the garden.  
“I don’t know why you are panicking, I just found out that I’m dead!”  
“I’m talking to a ghost! I…I kissed you…this is mental. Mental.”  
“And what do you think! How I feel! I just found my mutilated body!”  
“Sorry?” Greg raised an eyebrow.   
“Thank you.” he arranged his suit. “Now would you mind finding the man who did this to me?” Greg reached for his phon


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of fulff this time. I thought to treat Greg before things turns to the worse for him.  
> I do know what I want to do with this stroy now.

Greg sat up when someone brushed their fingers over his neck.  
"What?" he croaked looking around in his office sleepily.  
"I was worried, you didn't come, you didn't answer my calls..." Mycroft Holmes was standing next to him, scanning him worriedly.  
"Leave me be! Why can’t you just leave me the fuck alone!" he rubbed his eyes.  
"Pardon...I didn't mean to intrude." he whispered stepping away from him.  
"No, just to ruin me! To ruin everything, because you are a selfish bastard."  
"Gregory?" he tried to mask how hurt he was.  
"Not talking to my hallucination, not talking to it, not talking...because you are not real." he covered his ears.  
"Gregory..." Mycroft's voice was full with worry now. "DS Donovan!" he called out and soon she poked her head in.  
"You called boss?"  
"No, apologies it was me." Mycroft stepped closer.  
"Yes?" he sighed wearily.  
"Could you tell Gregory that you can see me too?"  
"Why?" she frowned.  
"Because for some reason he thinks I'm a hallucination."  
"Oh...well yes. I see the fre..." she cleared her throat. "Sherlock's posh brother you've been ogling after for months. He is in your office, posh as ever, looking like he is about to lose his mind if you don’t stop calling him a hallucination...you should go home and sleep boss. You've been in for days now, living off coffee..."  
“Thank you Sally.” he whispered. “Mycroft?" he looked at him finally.  
"I take you home Gregory."  
"I...sorry...I..." he mumbled with embarrassment.  
"You need rest." he picked Greg's coat up. "A good night's rest. The case will be here in the morning. Greg glanced at the file on his table 'serial killer' he remembered; 'hangings no mutilation'.  
"Gregory?" Mycroft said softly holding up his coat.  
"Yes, let’s get home." he closed it and got up. Mycroft helped his coat on him.  
“Please try not to disturb him tonight DS Donovan.”  
“Sure. Night boss.”  
“Night.” he felt miserable, his body heavy, his legs barely supporting him. Mycroft took his arm to help him.  
"I'm really sorry Mycroft, didn't mean to hurt you...I would never hurt you love." Greg said once they were in the car.  
"Of course Gregory. I understand...happened with me before, I must admit. Working for days not caring about yourself just the work ahead of you. Anthea could tell you things.”  
“Still...I shouldn’t have said those things." he kissed him. "Sorry love. I do wish to be in your company…a lot." he rested his head on his shoulder.  
"What you think about...spending this night with me? I could watch over you, it is much closer..."  
"Sure, sure." he mumbled sleepily. "Whatever you think best."  
"Please don't fell asleep, few minutes and we are there."  
"Okay." he yawned. "What was your first thought when I didn't turn up?"  
"That something bad happened to you."  
"Sure. The truth?"  
"That you changed your mind and don't wish to date me anymore."  
"Silly." Greg kissed his temple, then cupped his face pulling him to a proper one. "I'd be stupid to let such an amazing man run from me."  
"You'll change your mind." he mumbled turning his eyes away.  
"In my dream...we were on a case, and found a body."  
"Me on the field?" Mycroft flinched making Greg chuckle.  
"Yes, but...the body was yours. I was just hallucinating you." he whispered. "I felt devastated, just the thought of losing you..." he stroked his face.  
"I'm here and fine." Mycroft kissed him. "We both are, just your mind playing a nasty game with you."  
"Yeah...but it felt so real." he hugged him tightly. Mycroft also wrapped his arms around him, resting his chin on the top of his head.  
"Please don't fell asleep." Greg just huffed. "I can't possibly carry you up the stairs."  
"Where are we going exactly?" his brain wasn’t working at its usual pace.  
"My town flat."  
"Of course." he chuckled. "You have a flat too."  
"A few...for investment."  
“Ahamm.” he yawned. “Thank you love.”  
“Anything.” he whispered stroking his hair.

“Let’s get you to bed.” Mycroft steered him towards the room.  
“Shower first.” Greg tried to figure which was the bathroom door. “I haven’t had it in days.”  
“Through there, you can find everything…”  
“Not everything.” he took his hand pulling him in.  
“Gregory?”  
“Please, I…I want you to…I want to be with you now.” he smiled at him. Mycroft kissed him softly.  
“Sure.” he opened the tap. “Bath and bed.” he helped the suit off Greg. “Anthea will get you a fresh one in the morning.”  
“Is she…she does so many things for you.”  
“Yes, I’m lucky to have her…don’t worry she is very well compensated for her troubles.”  
“I’m sure she wouldn’t stay if not comfortable in her position.” Mycroft got out of his suit too, putting them down carefully.  
“Don’t sweat it love, mine is just…”  
“No need to treat it like trash.”  
“Okay.” he chuckled taking his hand as they sat to the tub. “Love your tub, so big and everything smells so good…just like you.” he laid against Mycroft’s chest.  
“Just well chosen bath products.” he mumbled washing Greg down.  
“I never have time to care about it.” he hummed. “Just pick up the one I spot in the supermarket.”  
“I just…found the ones I love and keep ordering them online.”  
“Consistency.”  
“I don’t like change…it gets my anxiety level up.” he whispered massaging Greg’s scalp.  
“So, me entering your life…”  
“The best thing that happened.” he kissed the back of his neck. “Yes, I’m anxious, yes I have fears but…the good outweighs everything.” Greg turned and kissed him.  
“Love you more and more.” he smiled at him.  
“Better go to bed.” Mycroft smiled quickly washing himself off too. “You seem like you could drop at any second.” Greg just hummed, leaning against the side of the tub. “My dear.” Mycroft got out of the tub getting towels for them.  
“Yes, yes.” he yawned he got out with Mycroft’s help, leaning against him, not having the strength to towel himself down. But Mycroft helped him with everything.  
“Damn.” his eyes grew wide seeing the bedroom.  
“What?” Mycroft turned red.  
“Huge bed.”  
“It’s just…a bed.”  
“Like the colour scheme.”  
“Thank you.” Mycroft pulled back the blankets arranging the pillows.  
“Really you.” he dropped to the bed. “My god…” he moaned. “This is soft.”  
“Not good?”  
“Shhhh, shhh…perfect.” he put a hand on his face. “Come here my gorgeous, perfect man.” he reached for him, pulling Mycroft to his arms. “I’m not going to let go of you…not for a second.” he mumbled burying his face to his hair.  
“I don’t mind.” Mycroft whispered, sighing contently. “Sleep well Gregory.”  
“Oh, I will.” he chuckled and was out seconds later.


	3. Chapter 3

“Boss.”  
“What?” he grunted not looking up from the files.  
“Autopsy report.”  
“Thanks.” he sighed taking it. “What happened to him?” he didn’t open it.  
“He…he was alive during most of it.” Greg rubbed his eyes.   
‘Oh love, what they did to you.’  
“He was raped, no semen found, it was most likely an object…insides ripped by it.” Donovan whispered.  
“Ouch.” Mycroft mumbled, he was sitting on Greg’s desk. “Glad I don’t remember.”  
“DNA confirmed?”  
“It is him.”  
“Who?”  
“Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock’s brother.” Greg opened the file flinching as he went through it.  
“It must have been personal.” Mycroft mumbled watching the pictures over Greg’s arm. “The amount of torture, it speaks of rage. The face; my face is basically unrecognisable…seems like they just…filled with rage and unleashed it on me.”  
“Yeah.” he sighed.  
“What?” Sally was still there.  
“Oh, I think it’s personal…none of the other victims suffered this much.”  
“Ask his brother…maybe he knows something.”  
“I will.” he got up. “Call me if something comes up.”  
Greg called John, Sherlock was apparently home going over his brother’s life.  
“Hi.” Greg whispered entering the flat.  
“Lestrade!” he jumped up. “Explain!” he yelled hovering over him.  
“Explain what?” he frowned, hoping Sherlock wasn’t high already.  
“Why you texted my brother?”  
“Oh…”  
“You seduced him and then…then…What you did to him?”  
“We texted because we were together Sherlock. We’ve been dating.” he clarified.  
“You and my brother?” he stepped back with a strange expression. “Why?”  
“Because we are two previously single adults, who found each other’s company more than adequate. I loved him Sherlock, truly.” he whispered the end.  
“I wasted my morning!” he grunted.  
“I brought over the autopsy report. Not…” Sherlock plucked it from his hand. “…nice.” John brought a mug of tea for him.   
“I’m sorry Greg.” he whispered.  
“Thanks.” he mumbled sinking to the only clear spot on the coffee table.  
“Is he clean?”  
“Been working since you called…the flat is clean so hopefully…”  
Greg had to duck from the flying file and then run for cover before Sherlock pulled the trigger.  
“Sherlock!” they yelled. “Put it down now! It won’t solve anything!”  
“NO! Because he is dead!” he dropped the gun. “He is dead.” he whispered. John walked to him wrapping his arms around him. “He is gone, he left me.” he leaned against him.  
“I never thought he’d care this much.” Mycroft whispered next to Greg. He walked up to his brother, running his hand over his curly locks. “My little pirate, my brave little genius.” he whispered. “I’m sorry.” Greg turned his back to them picking the file up, quickly wiping away his tears. “I thought you’d be relieved, I always thought you would be glad to have me out of your life.” Greg kept hearing his words. “I…I couldn’t do anything, I tried to fight but he overpowered me so quickly. Broke my leg…I couldn’t run, I was shoved to the trunk…I couldn’t do anything. Sorry…the pain was too much…I thought of you a lot. Remembering things from our childhood helped me through it. He did things to me, oh Sherlock he did things to me…” Greg turned hearing it. He almost asked Mycroft what he remembered.  
“Sherlock…I…think it was personal, no one was hurt the way he was. Do you have anyone in mind who could…who would do this to him?”  
“A lot.” he snorted stepping away from John. “Call Anthea too.”  
“Yes, yes…almost forgot about her.”  
“I haven’t told it to my parents yet.” he whispered. “I can’t…how should I tell her?”  
“I call them.” he sighed. “I call them too.” he sighed. “Bye.” Mycroft kissed Sherlock’s temple and followed Greg down.   
“Not going to be easy…please look after him. I’m really worried he might relapse.”  
“Sure.” he whispered. “You…really thought he’d be happy to lose you?” he asked once in the car.  
“Yes.”  
“Idiot.” he shook his head.  
“Just…”  
“I wanted to do so much for you My. I wanted to show you how it should be, how being loved feels like.” he whispered.  
“You did that.” he smiled. “Even if for a short time.”  
“Don’t keep reminding me to that.” he whispered.  
“Sorry.”  
“This is not fair.” he buried his face finally letting his tears fell. “So not fair.” his shoulders shook as he sobbed.  
“I know…wish to have more time with you…show you the world, take you to events making everyone jealous, giving you anything your heart desired.”  
“It only wanted you, no matter where and how…to be with you My.” he reached for him, but his hand went right through his. “Just see you when I wake up, see you smile, kiss you, hold you tight…” he sighed. “Sherlock is coming.” he mumbled seeing the front door open and then Sherlock sat to the car.  
“Morgue.”  
“John is coming?” he wiped away his tears.  
“No.”  
“All right. But no experimenting on your brother’s body. He’s been through a lot already.”  
“He is dead!” he snorted.  
“Please. He doesn’t need more humiliation.”  
“I’m with Gregory on this one.” Mycroft leaned forward too.   
“I just want to see for myself. Maybe they missed something…”  
“Okay.” he started the car.  
“You’ve been crying.”  
“Am I?” Greg kept his eyes on the road.  
“You loved him?”  
“Dearly.”  
“Was he happy?”  
“Yes…I tried my best to make him happy.”  
“At least he had someone, I hated to see him on his own.”  
“Why not go and see him?”  
“Because…because…” Sherlock trailed off.   
“It’s okay brother mine.” Mycroft whispered. “I love you, no matter what.” Sherlock shivered when his ghost hand touch his skin.   
“I don’t go in if you…” Greg mumbled when they arrived.  
“You have to. If I find something, you can act on it immediately.”  
“Fine.” he grunted.  
“I’m here Gregory, just keep your eyes on me.” Mycroft whispered stepping next to him.  
“Not helping.” he whispered.  
“What?”  
“Nothing Sherlock.” he shook himself and followed him in.

“Lestrade!” Sherlock called his name again.  
“Found something?” he asked his back turned. The image of Mycroft’s tortured body got imprinted to his mind forever.  
“Yes. Care to look?”  
“Not really.” he whispered.  
“Why?”  
“Why?” he snapped. “Why would I want to keep looking at the dead body of…” he turned and fell silent. The body wasn’t Mycroft’s.  
“Why that is what I asked.”   
“I’m going to throw up.” he ran out. His stomach was swirling, his head aching and he simply couldn’t understand what was going on. He fell to the bathroom, trying to get his phone out of his pocket frustatedly, almost ripping his suit jacket.  
“DI Lestrade.” Anthea answered soon.  
“Mycroft, is he all right?” he panted.  
“In a meeting, annoyed to death by politicians; otherwise fine. Why?”  
“Thank you.” he ended the call. “What is going on!” he washed his face with cold water. “What?” he looked at himself in the mirror. “What the hell.”

 

“Sally!” he yelled.  
“Yes.”  
“We have another body.” he was already running down the stairs. He reached his phone dialling Mycroft. “Pick it up already, pick it up!” he grunted but there was no answer. Then he dialled Anthea, it took her longer to pick it up than usual.  
“Where is he?”  
“Who?”  
“Mycroft!”  
“Greg…”  
“Where is he!” he yelled.  
“In the cemetery…we had the funeral this weekend.” Greg stopped dead. “Greg, are you all right? Shall I pick you up…” he put the phone down.  
“Sorry dear.” Mycroft was waiting at the bottom of the stairs.  
“Here boss.” Sally caught up with him.  
“Let’s go.”

“So.” Greg sighed. “Talk to me.” he gave up trying to ignore his hallucination. He sent everyone off to be busy so he could look at the scene on his own.  
“Same man.”  
“I wanted to ask you about that…just…my mind…you talked about it when we were at Baker street.”  
“I don’t remember his face or name or voice or smell…oh the smell! He smelled like gunpowder. Black clothes…mask, gloves…shoes…military type boots. Size 7,5, slight limp on left leg. Previous injury to knee.” Greg waited but Mycroft didn’t say more.  
“What about the newest victim?”  
“Leg broken…that was the first; he did it with a single blow…She was just another innocent victim that stumbled in his way. I think all of the others are irrelevant. I was the main target all along…or I’m just thinking highly of myself.”  
“You never did My.” he mumbled looking at him. “So leg broken, to the car and brought here. Why here?”  
“It is up for sale, just like the others. Empty, solitarily.”  
“All family homes. Maybe you destroyed his family?”  
“List is long unfortunately.” he whispered. “Her tongue cut, he doesn’t want any information. He burned her, not really caring…just…kept hurting her. For days as it seems…these started to heal.” he pointed at a few marks.  
“He didn’t keep anyone for days before. There must be something different about her.” he frowned.  
“She died of the hanging…slowly.” Greg sighed deeply. “Which adds to our theory that he enjoys seeing them suffer.”  
“But who is he?”  
“I’m sorry…”  
“Try to remember!” he yelled. “It’s not only about you!”  
“I know that Gregory. I can’t tell you more. Sorry.”  
“You’ve seen him!”  
“I…did not.” Mycroft stared at him with a perplexed expression.  
“But he killed you!”  
“Gregory?” Mycroft frowned. “I…Gregory, dear…I’m not…I’m really here.” he stepped closer reaching for his hand. “I’m alive and here…you called me to help out with the case, since my brother has no interest in this case…I try my best but…really can’t tell you more.”  
“No, no…” he shook his head. “I can’t…I just can’t!” he ran off followed by confused looks.  
He had no idea what was going on, not anymore. Once Mycroft was dead and then alive and dead again. His case always changing, Anthea always lying.  
“Here you go. You look like you could use it.” Greg sought refuge from the rain and the world in the little café near his flat. “On the house.”  
“Thanks.” he sighed taking a deep breath, smelling the freshly baked doughnut. “Cinnamon and apple.” he smiled faintly. “At least you are here for me.” he mumbled. “Sweet and warm and not messing with me.” he washed it down with tea.   
“Are you okay mate?” a lonely man at the next table asked.  
“Sure, just…rough days.” he waved.  
“That is clearly visible.” he sat to his table without invitation. “Need someone to vent to?”  
“I’m just…confused.”  
“Others make you confused?”  
“Don’t think so…I think I’m…Others?”  
“Don’t know, someone playing games with you? Making you confused with it…I don’t know…” he sipped his coffee.  
“That…oh…” he got up the chair almost falling back. “Got to go.” he left hurriedly. “It’s just a game…a bloody game!” he grunted.


	4. Chapter 4

“Gregory?” Mycroft stepped to the empty floor. He got the text from Greg to meet him in the office. It was late but Mycroft was up waiting for him to call or just text, keeping his eyes on the cameras around the Yard, knowing he went back some time ago. Greg was sitting on a desk, only a desk lamp lit, no one else but Greg and him.  
“Stop right there!”   
“Gregory, it’s just me.” he called out. He jumped off the table, pacing in front of it, mumbling to himself. “Gregory, my dear I think we should head home, you need…” Mycroft stepped closer.  
“Shut the fuck up!” he stopped pointing the gun at Mycroft.  
“It’s me, Mycroft, my darling…I…”   
“I said something!” his eyes scared Mycroft, frantic, pained; nothing like his lover’s.   
“Gregory?”  
“I didn’t let you speak!” Mycroft stayed quiet, taking his umbrella to his right hand, fingers firmly wrapped around the handle.  
“Drop that now!” he pointed at the umbrella. “Drop it!” Mycroft did so. “Coat off…and your jacket too.”  
“Is it necessary?”  
“DO IT!” Mycroft’s coat and suit jacket really slowly followed the umbrella. “Unbutton the waistcoat…and turn around” he did so, putting his hands up.  
“You’ve been messing with me for the past weeks!” the gun was shaking in his hand. “You Mycroft Holmes, the man I loved and trusted. You’ve been messing with me. You of all people. It was just a set up!” he chuckled manically. “You and your bloody service arranged it. The body, the files, the tests…it was all just a setup!”  
“What body?”   
“Your dead body. You kept following me around, whispering, pretending to be a ghost and a few seconds later saying the total opposite! You even got your brother to play along! What you promised to him? Drugs? Money? WHAT?”  
“I would never…”  
“He even cried when I told him the news! That should have been enough to open my eyes…but I was blinded my by grief. My grief for a monster. Why do this to me? What have I done to you to deserve this? Why me? All I did…I help you and your brother. It didn’t matter when, I dropped everything for you two. Not caring how it’d affected my life, my career…because I cared for you. I’m such an idiot.”  
“You are not Gregory.”   
“Answer me!” he hissed. “Right now.”  
“I can’t Gregory. I’m alive, not playing any games with you. The matters with the European parliament took up all my time I…”  
“You have so many people under your grip, you don’t have to leave the office to get something done. No one would suspect you! The hero of the country, above all suspicion…that is why it was so perfect. They only see the result, forgetting how you got to it, how many you sacrificed, how many lives you destroyed…not everyone deserved what they had to suffer through, the families you destroyed. But they all forget about that, forget what you are capable of! What have I done to deserve this? Do I know too much? Said no to you? What have I done!!!!!” he yelled.  
“It is just the exhaustion…good sleep and you’ll see everything differently. Everything will be fine.” Mycroft said softly.  
“Lies, lies and lies, nothing else comes out of your mouth! Why? I’m not going to ask one more time.”  
“I can’t answer you because I didn’t do anything!” he whispered eyes locked with Greg’s.  
“WHY!” as they talked Greg got closer and closer to him. This was all Mycroft wanted, he acted on instinct, his training kicking in and a few seconds later Greg was disarmed and under his firm grip pressed to the carpet.  
“I’m sorry my dear.” he mumbled.  
“You bastard!” he yelled trying to get out of his grip. “You did this to me! You…why you want me to lose my mind! WHY!”  
“I want to help you.” Mycroft took Greg’s phone out of his pocket. “Not going to hurt you.” he made a call.  
It was an excruciatingly long ten minutes, Mycroft listening to Greg cursing him, calling him names, yelling struggling.  
“Don’t close me up!” he yelled once hearing footsteps. “I’m not crazy! I’m telling the truth! I’m not…he is the one messing with me! He is the one you should close up! He is a manipulative monster! HE…” he whined when the needle got pushed to his thigh. “He is a monster…I’m not crazy, please believe me. SALLY!” he spotted her. “Please tell them I’m not crazy, please…” he whimpered, slowly giving up the fight. “Please…I’m not crazy.” Mycroft waited till he was almost asleep to loosen his grip.  
“Love you Gregory, promise everything will be all right.” he whispered before stepping back and letting the medics take over.  
“If I’d known this is how the case will end, I’d come sooner.” Sherlock mumbled.  
“Please not now.” Mycroft buttoned up his waistcoat.  
“Was it you?” John asked.  
“Do you honestly think that of me Dr. Watson?” Mycroft hissed.  
“All I know that before you, he was fine and now he’s not.” Mycroft left without an answer.

“Welcome back.” Anthea was sitting by Greg’s bed when he woke.  
“Hi.” he whispered. “Where am I?”  
“Hospital.”  
“Why?” he sat up slowly.  
“Here.” she gave him a glass of water.  
“Thanks. What happened?”  
“What is the last thing you remember?”  
“Me sleeping over at Mycroft’s flat.”  
“That was a week ago.”  
“Oh…okay? What happened?”  
“Apparently you’ve been continuously dosed with some kind of drug…we are till trying to figure out what it could be. It made you question your sanity, hallucinations, making you thinking Mycroft to be dead…and then to alive. Accusing him of orchestrating the whole thing.”  
“Oh no.”  
“Almost shot him.”  
“No….” he whined. “Who drugged me?”  
“Mycroft is working on it as we speak.”  
“On the field?”  
“Yes.”  
“For me?”  
“Yes…he does love you very much. But…”  
“I will apologise, several times.”  
“Not your fault…I want to talk about Dr. Watson.”  
“What about him?”  
“He said, that before you and him become a thing you were fine and now you are not.”  
“Shit…”  
“I know Mycroft, once the case is closed he’ll leave you.”  
“Because John thinks that he is bad for me?”  
“Yes.”  
“My idiot.” he rubbed his eyes. “They drugged me to get to him.” his head shot up. “They most likely hoped for me to…kill him.” he shrugged, even saying it out unsettled him.  
“Probably.”  
“My…hallucination Mycroft said…that he was kidnapped by a man, strong built. Smelled of gunpowder…he broke his leg with one blow…he loved torturing others, causing pain. Also…he chose family homes for sale…as a place of doing the deed.” Anthea was furiously typing what he said.   
“Anything else?”  
“7,5 size boots, he had a limp. We thought Mycroft might disrupt his family in some way and this was his revenge. Also he was raped…I mean Mycroft with…well we found a bottle which once contained…pool water.”  
“Pool water?”  
“Anderson said that the chemicals he found are used in pools.” he shrugged.  
“I don’t like this.” she mumbled sending everything to Mycroft.  
“Me neither. Who it can be?”  
“Anything missing from the body? Mycroft is asking.”  
“His ring.” Greg said finally. “Sorry my mind is still foggy.”  
“Sebastian Moran.”  
“Who?” Greg frowned.  
“I’ve got to go.”  
“Wait!” she was already gone. “What is going on now?” he sighed, but then a doctor came in and he was occupied for the better part of the day with different tests.

Greg just got out of a wonderful warm shower after all the poking, probing and questionings. He rubbed his hair, view blocked by the towel as he stepped out of the bathroom.  
“Hello Gregory.”  
“Oh, love!” he dropped it hurrying to him. “Are you all right?”  
“Yes, you…”  
“I was so worried, Anthea just ran off without an explanation. You on the field, running after a mad man who is clearly wanting you dead…Who is that Moran and why he wanted my man dead?” he gripped his hand. “Sit here already.” he pulled him to the bed with a swift move, wrapping his arms around him. “Are you honestly all right?”  
“Nothing happened, promise.”  
“Good. Who is he? Or was he?”  
“He was Sebastian Moran, marksman, gun’s trader, torturer, bounty hunter, your serial killer and Moriarty’s lover.”  
“Oh…the broken family, the pool!”  
“Yes. He…”  
“He figured by getting rid of you, he could hurt Sherlock.”  
“Possibly. Making him lose two people who he cares for…it would…”  
“Yeah.” he buried his face to the crook of his neck. “I’m so sorry My.”  
“Not your fault.” he wrapped his arms around him too. “But maybe you should avoid buying food out.”  
“What was in it?”  
“Doughnuts…and the coffee.”  
“Damn. Who dosed me?”  
“He kidnapped the barista’s girlfriend and forced him to do so.”  
“Poor kid, is the girl okay?”  
“She was the last victim.” he whispered.   
“And he was the man putting the bug in my ear.”  
“Bug…?”  
“I met a guy in the café, fair hair, well built, favouring one leg over the other…he told me someone might be playing games with me. Sorry, I never should have listened to him.”  
“You were under the influence, you couldn’t think rationally.”  
“Sorry never the less.” he kissed his neck.  
“Gregory…”  
“Anthea told me what John said.” he looked him in the eyes. “If you dare to break up with me, I’m getting my gun and this time shooting you.”  
“What good that will do?” he frowned.  
“I’ll resurrect you and shoot you again.”  
“I don’t follow.” Greg chuckled.  
“It’s just a...forget it love. John doesn’t know what I felt inside. He saw me cheerful, going out…but that was all pretence. You changed everything, for the better. I feel much better, I genuinely feel happy…”  
“But you were in danger because of me!”  
“And I almost shot you. I think we are equal.” he kissed him, Mycroft mumbled something. “Please don’t leave.”   
“I won’t. I feel much more myself since we are together. I…thank you, for everything Gregory.”  
“Anything for you my love. And I’m really sorry for accusing you of those things, I don’t remember a lot but I’m sure it wasn’t nice what I said to you.”  
“I know.” he smiled. “I asked the doctors to check you up.”  
“Oh they did.” he chuckled. “From the top of my head to the tip of my toes. Fit as a fiddle! Just not remembering a lot.”  
“Maybe that is good.”  
“Yeah.” he snuggled to his arms. “Please stay…”  
“I will.” he rested his chin on the top of his head.  
“I’m scared I’ll wake up and everything will be crazy again.”   
“Me too.” Mycroft stroked his hair.  
“It wasn’t you hallucinating.”  
“No, I was the one watching you suffer…I’m here Gregory, I’m here.” he kissed the top of his head. “You just rest, I’ll be here…always.”  
“You better be.” he yawned soon drifting off to sleep.


End file.
